https://forgelitmag.com/2023/07/24/hideous-miracles/
My parents never told a soul. Not about the attempt, not about the rift between us afterwards. Didn’t admit it happened even when we were alone. They didn’t stop smiling at me from the moment they came and got me until months after that summer was over. It was a plague of happiness, infectious and rotten. Who was I to cure it with something as inconsequential as the truth?
Barlow Adams
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